The hunt, long story short

The hunt

In the abyss
of our eternal meetings
I dwell
waiting for millennia
watching stars being born and die
waiting
while days and nights are blinks for the eyes
crystals are changing colors buried in the depths
and you appear for a second or two
when he has finally given up
when she is unconsciously absent minded
we gaze intensely for a millisecond of alignment
knowing
It might take us another interstellar dance
till we touch a single point of each others' again
Watching them in fear as they're growing consciousnesses
in fear there won't be left
any space available one day
to continue our secret hunt